


Good Boy, Superhero

by sugarby



Category: Devilman (Anime & Manga), Devilman Crybaby - Fandom
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Canon, M/M, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-22 05:14:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16591496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugarby/pseuds/sugarby
Summary: Sure it's gone differently to how he could've imagined: not by being inhabited by demonic strength and bouts of confidence, and vigorous energy preferably exuded through sex. But the point is that he has the means now; he can be a hero if he chooses, and his still intact human heart very much chooses to do so.(OR: between their blissful, intimate moments, Ryo's proudly exploiting Akira's demonic alias as a modern superhero).





	Good Boy, Superhero

**Author's Note:**

> I've watched _Devilman Crybaby_ twice, it's so good, but it's also _sinful_ because it's actually got me to write something above the T rating! I felt like _"broadening my horizon"_ a bit though and wanted something to say ‘hey, series, I really like you’. _ ~~this fic is more or less me writing smut without actually writing it, lol.~~_ But still, as always, I hope it’s a decent read. Title is a mash-up of my headcanon that Akira has a praise kink, and his strive to be a demon superhero
> 
> Songs I wrote this to: _Self Control_ by _Bebe Rhexa_ and _Somebody Special_ by _Nina Nesbitt_.

In the colourless apartment Ryo Asuka lives in daily, one of many places where the unordinary happenings he's interwoven into like to transpire, he's unclothed and on top of his boyfriend.

Akira, down to dark, unzipped jeans, is on his back with a strained expression, erratic and desperate to conclude his insatiable lust, and Ryo so willing to take it time after time.

Colourless sheets on top upturned and crumpled, the king-sized mattress squeaks in compression underneath them, fancy headboard audaciously smacking dents in to the wall in sync with Akira's hysteric thrusting. He pushes in and up like it'll never be enough; holds Ryo's hips with a sense of urgency, of security, like he might vanish.

Intimacy for them hasn't been as plain and average-tempo as the apartment's scheme; not since one has fused with a powerful demon and gained its benefitting attributes: confidence bordering on arrogance and an all around faster, stronger, more capable body. It'll be  _criminally going to waste_  if they don't take advantage of the unexpected siring, so excuse them for being twenty-somethings and taking advantage of it once, twice and many times more.

Aware they might easily be at this for hours, Ryo divides his attention to scroll through articles on his phone.

Enormous claws, multiple eyes, scales and earth-quaking steps are just some of the signs the city's noticed regarding the subtle influx of demons—some of which are striving for a peaceful life. Rather than spear-heading a campaign against them, he wants to focus on Akira— _his_  Akira, the boyfriend; his selfless, sensitive, caring nature and how he can be used to positively represents demons from all over.

Ryo jolts with every strong thrust spreading all sorts of pleasure within and still manages his pitch, his previous profession having indirectly endowed him with ways of dealing with  _distraction_ , "Since you're debuting as a demon superhero, you need a manager. Don't you think?" He's wording it vaguely, but because he's Ryo it's inarguable there's depth to this plan.

It's quite unfair to Akira, too, so entranced by his dick pulsating inside his boyfriend that he'll agree to  _anything_. "F-Fuck, yes! Yes!"

See?

But honestly, he thinks it's stupid. Demon superhero? So, what, he'll go out, help people and save the day? And Ryo will probably, like, be filming him or something to promote not all demons are bad. It sounds like make-believe, like they're kids again and they're splashing in puddles and imagining kingdoms out of their drenched umbrellas and soaked raincoats. Then again, pretty much everything since becoming part demon has seemed fictional—too far-fetched to happen to the likes of him.

But Ryo is real—the main sense of reality in Akira's messy life now, all pretty and  _heavenly_  as he rides him against demonic stamina.

Ryo, half gasping, says, "I don't think you're as on board as you sound."

Akira grunts, not bothering to even deny it, "If you're gonna talk this much then at least, fuck, tell me...how  _I feel inside you_! Damn it,  _Ryo_!"

Ryo smirks, "Are you begging?"

" _God_ , fuck you!"

"Almost, try again."

"Let's see you fucking smirk like that when I—" Akira's threat leaves his him, mouth gaping at the chill of Ryo lifting himself completely off him. He whines pathetically and sits up to nip at his neck, repeating  _'please, baby'_  in hot hushes.

"I'm trying to talk to you about the future—your future, so I'd like you to listen."

"Fine..." Akira pouts, presses a comforting kiss to Ryo's shoulder. "You were saying something about being my manager?"

"Yes. Your Superhero business starts tomorrow."

"That quick, huh?"

" _You're welcome_. I found a tip-off."

"From?"

"Online. Dark web. Forums, a _hh_... _Aki, Akira_!" Ryo's arms cling to his boyfriend starting from the speed he paused at, his thorough explanation quickly devolved to curt answers to avoid embarrassingly stammering. Ryo inhales sharply, the familiar nerve within struck with barely any mercy, his breaths turning shallow and his brilliant, professor mind clouding.

Akira smirks, "You're so good, Ryo." he encourages with lingering kisses over his chest. "Keep talking, baby. Where?"

"There's  _hnnh, ah, a_  drug dealer. U-Underground club." Ryo says through the stretch of his throat as he strains to tilt his head back, "Take him out, Akira, and show people not all demons,  _ahh_ , are bad!"

"Not gonna work in a milli—"

"Don't doubt me, Akira." Ryo actually looks irked. "It upsets me."

Akira means the idea itself, it doesn't sound foolproof. It won't be as easy as it sounds; won't be enough to throw money on collateral damage if it all goes to shit. But he knows Ryo doesn't play games he thinks he has a chance of losing at. And when the tables are turned, he has things up his sleeves.

Ryo clenches purposefully and Akira whines again, "Akira, we can fuck any time but this—" he lifts his boyfriend's head by his chin and looks directly at him, blue eyes glossed with lust and euphoria but no less certain of what they can do. "— _this_  is your chance. Strike while the iron's hot. Do this before demons are branded forever."

Akira gapes, dumfounded by the conviction. "I...Ryo..."

Ryo starts easing himself off again, pulling his boyfriend's dick along painfully slow.

Ask Akira and he'll say he thinks his boyfriend's the real demon here. "Fine!" He grinds his teeth and surrenders, limited patience once hanging by a threat snapped, "Whatever you want!"

Ryo's smirk makes a deserving comeback, "Good boy." 

**_*  *_ **

 

Akira emerges after a shower with a towel loosely around his waist and one being rummaged through his damp hair, steam rolling out the bathroom from behind like atmospheric effect, "Thought you were joining me?"

Ryo, sitting at the glass coffee table with his eyes glued to his laptop and his fingers typing rhythmically, replies, "If I had, we'd only need another shower."

Akira smirks, "Would that be so bad?"

"Water costs money."

"Fuck off, you're loaded."

"Doesn't mean I like wasting it."  
  
" _Please_ , you'd throw money to _have me_ and you know it."  
  
Ryo just smiles because, yeah, he would.

Akira's walk around the counter and over to the table leaves small droplets of water in a trail. He leans down, kisses Ryo who hungrily reciprocates, mostly teeth and tongue, and peeks at the laptop. There's a memorable photo drawn up on the screen, taken years ago by two, loving parents no longer around. "That's me."

"Good observation." Ryo earns a playful bite on the ear for being a _smartass_. "I was feeling a little sentimental, but now I'm wondering about a disguise for you. A mask."

"Got any ideas?"

"So far just a black mask. But maybe you can go around shirtless, or naked altogether except for a utility belt."

Akira laughs, "Babe, that wouldn't be practical."

Fuck practical, it'd be _hot_. "Utility belts are quite handy actually."  
  
"I bet they are." Akira, knowing better, settles Ryo's fantasy with another kiss before he drapes over him, "Hey, I could do with a superhero name as well." When he transforms completely, he grows two horns, heavy fur from the feet to the waist, and large, black wings. An image like that can be called a lot of things but he wants it to stick and be decent. He thinks simple, "Devilman. Like Batman but hotter."  
  
Ryo blinks, "You're  _joking_."  
  
"Nah," Akira grins, already excited by it. "I like it already. Not a man or a beast but somewhere between. Devilman!"

 

* * *

 

When adults are children they have dreams, and Akira dreamed of finally catching up to his parents' fleeting silhouettes, that his breathless body doesn't give out and have everything just be hopeless.

When children dream, it's sometimes of being superheroes, and Akira's mind hosted one or two of those.

Now it's a reality.

Sure it's gone differently to how he could've imagined: not by being inhabited by demonic strength and bouts of confidence, and vigorous energy preferably exuded through sex. But the point is that he has the means now; he can be a hero if he chooses, and his still intact human heart very much chooses to do so.

 

* * *

 

Akira rocks up to the club in a full, put-together outfit: dark, ripped jeans clinging to his long legs, a tight red shirt under an open, leather jacket and thick, dark shades on his no-care expression. He stands out for being hot as well as the only still figure in the crowd of partygoers blending with the strobes of blood red and sinister black light show.

Any other time and Ryo would gladly eye-fuck his boyfriend, but, "Are those shades necessary?"  
  
Akira pulls the shades down with a sheepish smile, "Babe, I'm trying to fit in."  
  
"D for effort, an F overall."  
  
"Okay,  _Professor_ , lay off. You told me to look like I live at this club like all the other posers in here."  
  
"Akira, look around. Do you see  _anyone_  wearing those?"

No, and Akira doesn't even need to look, and he doesn't. He stands, looking caught-out and partially scolded. "I saw it in a movie once and they looked fucking cool..."  
  
Ryo sadly believes him. He scans around for their target: the common shady-guy beckoning the under-aged or vulnerable in dark corners to make regrettable choices. "See him anywhere?"   
  
"Nope. Must've got it wrong."  
  
Ryo snorts because his informant skills are never (or they're hardly ever) wrong, and to imply otherwise is rather insulting. "He's  _hiding_." he affirms certainly. "Mingle a bit and see if he's around"  
  
"Mingle like...how much we talking?" Akira asks and articulates with demonstration, head lightly tipping forward and back, "Soft head banging but I'm not super into it, or," He pulls off smooth footwork in his scruffy, sways his hips sensually slow to the thick bass in the song.

Ryo swallows but otherwise stays collected, "Just...g-go."

"Yes, Sir." Akira salutes and marches back until he's swallowed up by the crowd and distant silhouettes.  
  
Ryo shakes his head, a fond smile with Akira's talented hips ever fresh on his mind, and he orders a drink at the bar while he waits.

A man takes the seat next to him, about five-foot and seven inches at full height, brown hair trimmed in short curls, a blatant grin on his face that spells only one intention. His fingers wander over to Ryo's hand on his glass.

Ryo smiles, "And what can I do for you?”

“ _A lot,_ I'm hoping. Want a good time."

From the corner of his eyes, Ryo spots Akira standing still in the crowd, his eyes furious. "Oh, that right? Mind elaborating on the 'good time' you want to have? C'mon, tell me what you'd do to me." He smirks as Akira's ears twitch, his heightened hearing picking up every suggestive syllable.

The man leans forward, moves his hand down to Ryo's inner thigh and strokes, "Oh first, pretty boy, I'd take your mouth and—”

Something is flung between them and crashes, slides down pitifully at their feet. Upon recognition, it's the dealer.

"Found him." Akira strolls over, cracking his neck. "Asshole was trying to deal in the bathroom."

"I see." Ryo says.

The man beside him starts stuttering, stuck between confusion, disbelief and fear over everything: the unconscious man and how easily he was flung, and why the fuck the pretty blond boy's so casual about it?!

"Oh, right, you were saying something."

The man seizes up.

Akira and his shadow tower over him with ease, eyes sharp and locked on him, "About doing something to my boyfriend, right?!"

"B-Boyfriend?!"

"That's right. As in the only one who gets to buy him drinks." Akira kicks at the man's stool and the latter shrieks, wobbling to sustain balance, "The lucky, son of a bitch who gets to be balls deep in him." He leans in, arching over to be eye to eye with this guy. "Still feel like sharing what you were gonna do?"

The man's head shakes rapidly, skin glistening with sweat under the lights.

“Good.” Akira holds a hand out to the side, waiting.

Ryo slides off his stool and takes it, barely keeping back his victorious smirk. "Just so you know," he stops to say to the man, "You wouldn't have measured up anyway."

"W-What?!" the man croaks.

Ryo hovers a hand over Akira's crotch, “Inside here is a monster, a demon. So nothing else can satisfy me.”

“Demon…?” The man blinks, confused, but thinks he can turn it around and still get lucky. Thinks it'll only take some encouragement. “Well how about getting stuffed by two guys a once? You’d like that, wouldn’t—”

"Hey, Jackass, stop talking." Akira says with the littlest bit of patience left, then punches the man between the eyes.

The man topples over and joins the unconscious dealer.

Akira leans across the bar, suggests to the bartender that he call the cops to pick up these dickheads, then gladly escorts his boyfriend out of the club with an arm behind his waist. They know the games Ryo likes to play when he's bored, when he's itching for thrill and a bit of danger, and he can presume from the harsh, heavy breathing behind his neck that he's in for a enjoyably restless evening.

 

* * *

 

So the name Devilman (Ryo rolls his eyes every time but it's whatever because Akira's so fucking happy) gets mentioned online in articles, in videos and it's fresh in millennial jokes they love to share around.

Ryo uploads footage of Devilman's feats religiously, spending half the time filming splitting the other half between editing and uploading. He works well in to the night, Akira clocking out beside him most nights, exhausted from his heroism of saving cats and helping night-shift employees clean and close up stores. Beside the routinely drug dealers, demons and etcetera, there's hope for Devilman to be the average hero who supports the little people, too, who doesn't only fight unimaginable terrors.

Ryo wants him to be somewhat relatable, if possible.

For the goodness of his heart to shine.

According to a particular trending upload as well, Devilman looks to be the sort of hero who marches in to toy stores, borrows an iconic hero mask and dances outrageously well to classic bops.

On another particular occasion, sobbing on his boyfriend's made bed, Akira reminiscences about a kid he rescued from bullies on their way home and how much they appreciated him.

Ryo kisses his tears away, cradles his tear-streaked face, tells him, "I love you."

Akira cries some more, overwhelmed with love and support.

 

* * *

 

“I see you’re making the rounds and gaining quite the following lately.” Miki Makimura’s in her striped, waitress dress uniform, hair tucked cutely under a hat. She serves a burger that's massive in size: the ‘finish it in three minutes and pay nothing’ meal.

Akira licks his fingers greedily and finishes it in three large bites. Along with heightened senses and an everlasting sex drive, his stomach can now accommodate four times the recommended intake for one. "Yeah, seems so.”

At first, the drastic change in her childhood friend surprised Miki (he’d turned literally over night!). Now she’s used to it; admires it actually, the confidence he’s come in to and made his own. And it doesn’t hurt he’s become more handsome either. “You were mentioned on the news earlier.”

Akira glances up at the mounted TV behind Miki, an illustration of his Devilman form alongside a reporter.

“How’s Ryo feel about all this?”

“He’s endorsing the shit out of me. Having a manager who’s also your boyfriend is pretty convenient.”

“He’s not causing you trouble from all this, is he?” Miki met Ryo once when Akira brought him over for dinner and immediately saw him as the kind of guy to 'shoot first, ask questions later if logic excused it'. And he's suspiciously wealthy to the point where he can literally throw money at problems.

“Nothing I can’t handle.” Akira promises, unintentionally being all sorts of vague but Miki lets it slide; she trusts Akira knows when to bail if need be, rather than stick around out of sheer loyalty. He doesn't sense any need to run, and the few times Ryo actually owns up for his shit, he gladly makes it up to him with sex!

_ bzzt, bzzt!_

Miki sighs at the demanding vibration from Akira phone, “Don’t forget about me when you become a famous superhero. Promise you’ll still visit?”

Akira's already halfway out the door but swiftly turns on his heels with a cheeky grin, “I’ll do better than that, I’ll take you out on a _hot date_.”

“Yeah. Take me somewhere cheap, won’t you?”

“Nothing but the _best_ for you, Miki!”

Miki chucks a dishcloth at him and watches it hit the wall instead, Akira laughing over the bell above the door on his way out.

 

* * *

 

Akira stands outside a toy store with Ryo, looking up at it where the apparent shit is about to take place, ‘"Where do you get this information?"  
  
Ryo has several connections that run deep underground; being a college professor at a young age (and curious) has opened a lot of doors inaccessible to most. "The internet."  
  
Akira squints, not fully convinced.  
  
"You can find a lot on there." Ryo explains, "For instance, your porn collection alone—"  
  
"Ryo!" Akira snaps, flushing. "Damn it, don't go through my shit like that!"  
  
"I should feel offended that you'd even go looking for that."  
  
"It's not like that!"

“Anyway, a demon’s planning to kidnap someone here as a vessel.”

They go inside nonchalantly, peeking a glance or two at nearby security that otherwise don't mind them.

"Look near the back for anything suspicious." Ryo instructs.

Akira heightens himself on the toes of his scruffy shoes, surveying in place of the slow cameras, wild hair sticking above the aisle of dragon plushies and race cars. He just about catches the end of a tail, slimly and slithering in to the back store room with a small shoe left behind, "Like that?”

Ryo lifts his camera, "Lead the way."

It’s over as quickly as it begins.

Akira does his newfound thing of giving the demons hell and Ryo records every second of it, tongue subconsciously out in awe of how strong his boyfriend is.

The store employees and customers don't seem to register the muffled sounds of curses and something like flesh being pulled apart. Moments after, Akira walks out in complete human form, licking away a smudge of blood by his mouth. The person nearly taken over staggers out and past him, barely able to comprehend what even happened.

Ryo lowers his camera, smiling, "You were fantastic.”

Akira hums and leans in to him, eyes closed, a peaceful sigh as he comes down from the thrill, “Say it again.”

“You were _so, so good_ , Akira.” Ryo purrs it out and and Akira's demonic tail would be wagging if it were out. Combing fingers through dark hair, Ryo says, “Let’s get out of here, I have footage to upload. The last one got over four million views.”

"That's cool. Hey, Ryo, thanks.”

“I didn’t refresh the page four million times if that’s what you—”

“For believing I could do this shit. For still seeing me as crybaby Akira.”

Ryo strokes his cheek. “I know you, Akira.”

“Yeah.” Akira nuzzles against him, "Celebratory fuck?"  
  
"Goodness is its own reward"  
  
“But _I want you_ , Ryo..." Akira growls and holds him by the waist, pulling him back against his clothed erection and grinding. His question is a hot breath in Ryo's ears, "Don't you want me too?  
  
Ryo sighs blissfully, "I suppose heroes can be as selfish and insatiable as the criminals they lock up these days."  
  
"Gonna lock you away." Akira says lustfully and Ryo _shudders_ , "Gonna keep you all to myself. You're mine," he kisses his collarbones. "Mine." he nips at his neck, "Always mine." he licks under his jaw.  
  
Ryo smiles, "See? Selfish." but he likes the sound of that, of belonging to Akira if he has to belong anywhere in the changing world.

**Author's Note:**

> Devilman Crybaby's underrated, ~~don't you dare~~ change my mind.
> 
> that viral video of Akira borrowing a kid's mask and dancing is absolutely based on [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iDXIa8ivFEc)


End file.
